The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 299

McNeil had all the trappings of old money—a privileged, aristocratic air beneath the polished veneer of a trust fund heir. The first time Victoria laid eyes on him, she was utterly captivated.

"Go upstairs and change. We're having dinner at Granddad's tonight. If he sees you dressed like this, he won't be pleased."

Victoria smirked inwardly.

So much for the "just the three of us going out to dinner" he'd promised. Turned

out, they were heading back to the old family estate to see the patriarch.

No wonder McNeil hadn't cut her loose yet-she was still useful to him.

"Alright."

She didn't argue, just made her way to the room she hadn't set foot in for ages. The moment she habitually flung open the closet doors, Victoria was stunned.

Her clothes-all of them were neatly arranged inside. Same sizes, same styles, nothing missing, not even a single piece of lingerie. It was as if she'd never left at all.

But she vividly remembered packing every last item when she walked out the door.

Back then, McNeil's things were the only ones left behind.

Now, both their clothes had found their way back to their places, side by side.

for the faint scent of newness, everything was exactly as it

the mirror. The woman staring back was the same one who, for six years, had devoted herself to McNeil without

different in her eyes-a glint that hadn't been there

to the nightstand, where she spotted a

She walked over.

meant for practicing letters—a kind of pen where the writing would vanish completely after half an hour. Gwyneth must have left it here the last time she was playing in the room.

windows, lost in thought, cigarette smoldering between his

pulled him from his reverie. He turned just as she began her descent down the spiral staircase, moving with a grace that made his

swept up, with just a few delicate strands framing her face. Pearl earrings adorned her ears, catching the light, while

the soft

innocent girl into a woman of depth and

she'd been

slipped from his lips before he

his hand, and the sting finally broke

snuffed the still-glowing cigarette out on the carpet with his shoe. "We'll need a

Victoria hesitated for a moment, but in the end, she let him take

wedding day, when only the Langfords and the Turners had gathered in the old chapel. McNeil had taken her hand just like this, guiding her toward the priest, where they'd vowed-under the watchful eyes

Langford, you look beautiful

squeeze, he pulled her into

them. "I've always dressed like this. Perhaps Mr. Langford simply never noticed?" Every piece in that closet had been carefully chosen by her. She'd bought them only because, back when they were dating, McNeil